Picking Up Lots of Forget-Me-Nots

Oh woe is me. Woe is the world. Salvation? Salvation is a word that drips from tooth to tongue with the gracefulness of sap sliding down a tree. Love? Love is like the last little bit of warm air in your lungs before they are filled with the icy, frost-ridden air of outside. Salvation and love. What a joke. What a God-forsaken, bitter, sick joke. Salvation. What is salvation anyway? My salvation? I find salvation in cigarettes and on tops of bluffs, in hair conditioner and wool socks. What a God-forsaken joke. My love? My love exists in the cracks of everyday life. My life is just one big joke, one huge, ridiculous, pathetic joke. A cycle of love, lose of love, searching for salvation after love, losing faith in salvation, finding love, love, losing love, etc. You get the idea. Burning holes with cigarettes in pantyhose, in tee shirts, in my hand, in scarves, oh yes my dear, that is salvation. Herr Temptation, deliver me.